HOME | DD

Description
I was given a message the other day
Which had read
“Hey brother I miss that guy who told me he wanted my job some day! Do you know where he has been on Sunday mornings?? Miss ya bro hope to see you soon in church”
Pastor in all honesty, I do too
I miss the guy who would wake up earlier than the night before
Ready with bible in hand
And mind wide open
As of matter of fact I miss a few of those guys
I miss the guy who could think of beautiful lines
“Each leaf acted as a finger”
“When the wind would blow”
“The hand of the tree would wave”
“This is how the baby learned how to say hi”
But he is absent too.
I miss the guy who had a backbone
He had dealt with himself
And cut away the fat people left him
Burning the bridge to his past
But he too, is absent
Infact I miss the novice
Who wanted to become an artist
Creating pieces with impact
Either emotionally or physically
He left for more beauty and never came back
I miss the child the most
He who was destined to make a video game
Not for the sole reason of making them
But to bring brothers and sisters together.
But it’s been 12 years since I-
He last thought those things.
All who is left is the footprints of all of them
Leaving behind only the remains
Of the only who stayed
Trying to put myself back together.

Description
I was given a message the other day
Which had read
“Hey brother I miss that guy who told me he wanted my job some day! Do you know where he has been on Sunday mornings?? Miss ya bro hope to see you soon in church”
Pastor in all honesty, I do too
I miss the guy who would wake up earlier than the night before
Ready with bible in hand
And mind wide open
As of matter of fact I miss a few of those guys
I miss the guy who could think of beautiful lines
“Each leaf acted as a finger”
“When the wind would blow”
“The hand of the tree would wave”
“This is how the baby learned how to say hi”
But he is absent too.
I miss the guy who had a backbone
He had dealt with himself
And cut away the fat people left him
Burning the bridge to his past
But he too, is absent
Infact I miss the novice
Who wanted to become an artist
Creating pieces with impact
Either emotionally or physically
He left for more beauty and never came back
I miss the child the most
He who was destined to make a video game
Not for the sole reason of making them
But to bring brothers and sisters together.
But it’s been 12 years since I-
He last thought those things.
All who is left is the footprints of all of them
Leaving behind only the remains
Of the only who stayed
Trying to put myself back together.